


Short Hetalia stories, using random prompts

by Toffybird



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 28 Weeks Later AU, 28 Weeks Later References, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Car Accidents, Gen, Magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-17
Packaged: 2018-03-05 05:12:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3107408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toffybird/pseuds/Toffybird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Hetalia shorts using random prompts I find for ideas. Probably gonna be focused on England. Will add tags when more shorts are written.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chap 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1  
> You are in a taxi on a gridlocked street when you notice people in neighboring cars are exiting their vehicles.
> 
> (One swear word)  
> Y'know, I never liked Zombie AUs just 'cause they hardly ever have a good ending. And here I go writing one. Dear me. XD

England grumbled as he felt the car slow to a stop once more. He always disliked America's roads, the fact that they drove the wrong way, and to cross most roads you had to run across three lanes to get to the other side. But what really bugs him was the amount of people on the roads, he thought London at rush hour was bad.  
The cab driver looked at him in the rear-view mirror apologetically, England gave a rather strained smile. He can't blame the cabby, imagine how many times he had to go through this everyday.  
He huffed and leant on his hand to gaze out of the window. He was going to miss the meeting at this rate. Taking a glance at his watch he sighed. No, he was already late. How embarrassing.

The first person who ran past his window didn't even phase him, it was strange but it's America so he promptly ignored it. The next two or three made him lift his head in confusion. What were these bloody idiots doing? The fourth he saw tripped and fell, slipped down his window and left a streak of crimson.  
"Bloody - !" England exclaimed, he jumped back from his seat, only stopped by his seatbelt.  
He turned to the front of the car only to see the driver clambering out of the car and run down the street.  
"What the hell?" He said. England scooted to the middle seat and leaned forward in the gap to get a clear view from the window. Hundreds of people were running past his car in a panic. They were pale and frantic in their movements. Some were covered in blood, and the situation didn't click within England's head. He just sat watching until his ringtone interrupted his thoughts, he jumped in surprise and fumbled to grab his phone from his pocket.  
"Hello?"  
" _Angleterre? Oh Dieu merci. Where are you?_ " It was France, and he sounded worried... scared?  
"France, what the bloody hell is going on? This better not be one of America's stupid jokes -"  
" _No, Angleterre, not now. Amérique collapsed. Where are you?_ "  
"America wha-" England was cut off by a loud 'thump' on the hood of the cab. The image that greeted him was that of most America's horror zombie films he made him watch. Blood covered the poor sod, there was that primal instinct in the... things eyes, instinct to just tear apart prey and eat it. It was clawing and biting, desperately trying to get to him. The force in which the... zombie was hitting the glass of the windscreen was enough to crack it and, in turn, caused England to get the hell out of that car. Once free of the metal death trap, the bitter breeze bit at the blonde's face while he turned left and right to assess the situation. He forgot he still held his phone to his ear until he heard France's desperate voice, " _Angleterre?! Where are you?!_ " Though it was difficult to hear his voice over the screams and shouts that surrounded him.  
The monster on the hood of the car noticed his escape and jerkily but speedily climbed over the car, England decided this was a good point to run along with the rest of the crowd. "Uh, not sure. I wasn't far from the meeting. _Shit_! I'm running in the opposite direction though. They're bloody everywhere!" England ducked under a stretched out, clawed arm aimed right for his face. Being a nation, he really hated pushing civilians out of the way, but right now he felt as human as the rest of them. And he was scared.  
"Just let me find another way -" Some how he ended up on the floor, head pounding and vision blurred. There was a horrid, spiking pain piercing through his leg. He tried kicking with his other foot to dislodge whatever was clinging on, but he felt weaker and weaker each second. His vision was filled with black spots and they continued to grow, the sounds around him grew more indistinguishable like he was swiftly sinking underwater. Faintly, he heard from his phone a few feet from his out stretched hand a panicked, " _Angleterre? England, please answer. Angleterre!_ "  
Then everything went black.


	2. Chap 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are the only person to witness a car accident and several passengers need medical attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I don't know how I feel about this one, but hey, at least I'm writing.)

He knew what happened, he only wished it could have happened in a less secluded area.

 

England decided it would be a nice night to leave his countryside house for a midnight stroll. This global warming problem left English summers almost unbearable, and most definitely uncomfortable. Off in the distance he heard a horrible screech of tires failing to stop and a sickening crunch of metal hitting something at highspeed. Through some hedges, he saw a flash of bright light for only a moment, then it was pitch black and silent once more. He only froze for a second, he knew what had happened but still his brain needed time to actually _understand_ what happened. Once he heard cries of distress and pain he whipped out his phone -he was deeply glad he brought it tonight- and dialed for an ambulance. After brief words with the wonderfully calm woman on the other end of the phone, he hung up and sprinted to the poor soul who was obviously in a great deal of pain, stuck in the back of the car. Luckily for him he back passenger window was wide open, where the screaming was coming from. The downside was that the screaming came from a little boy, no older than ten years of age. Fat tears ran down his chubby, red cheeks. He couldn't help but think of a little America clinging to his trouser legs after the boy found out he was leaving him again. He angrily shook his head and went on trying to get the boy's attention and calm him down simultaneously. He saw a little blood just below the boy's brown hair line and he was clutching his arm to his chest. He made calming shushing noises while gently stroking his hair. The boy looked up at him with pain-filled, sad eyes. England knew the ambulance would take a while to get here, they are in the middle of the countryside, so he did the best he could to numb the pain. "Hey kid. You're okay now. Could you let me see your arm for a sec?" England said softly. He hated seeing his people in pain. The boy didn't do anything, no movement, no sounds, minus the little sniffs and whimpers of pain. England sighed, he must have forgotten how to deal with kids. "My name's Arthur. I'm here to help, your arm must hurt a lot. I can make it feel better." The boy seemed to think about it for a second. England took this time to glance at the front seats of the car, both occupants we're both unmoving, England both hoped they were just unconscious, he would check after he sorted out the boy. Said boy grunted as he lifted his arm slowly. "Alright, careful." He very, very gently held the arm in his hand and felt around a bit, pressing in areas to find the hurt. The sharp gasp indicated when he'd found it. "Okay, it feels a little broken here, but not to worry. I've dealt with this kind of thing before. This next part might feel a little weird." As he finished his sentence, a bright, pale green light escaped from the gap between his fingers. The boy's eyes widened in wonder. "Are you okay?"

The kid nodded, "Feels cold." He said simply. "Are you an angel, or a wizard?"

England laughed, "Actually, I'm a little of both." England released the brunet's arm. "Better?" He moved his arm and hummed in approval when he felt no pain whatsoever. "Tell me what happened." England said, as he tried to open his door. The door was too twisted to open so he moved towards the front seats. To the unmoving parents he presumed.

"Are you gonna heal them too?"

"I'm going to do my best, but I don't want to do all of the paramedics jobs." He cracked a reassuring smile.

 

These two were far worse off than the boy. Both crushed under the dash board so that he couldn't even see their legs. The male seemed to be in a worse state, so close to the steering wheel that England was sure that the wheel could've replaced his rib cage. He didn’t know how to fix this, he was much well versed with knife and bullet wounds, and broken bones. He sighed, it was much easier with horse-drawn carriages, much more predictable. Damn technology. He did his best though, fixing what he could, trying to keep a straight face while doing it, so to not worry the boy. He listened to the boy's chatter -atleast he's a lot calmer now, though that could be just a aftereffect of the magic - as he explained what happened. They were just coming home from a holiday abroad -from America. Obviously, they probably went to Disney World or something- and after the long flight they were anxious to get home. England wished his people would understand the dangers of driving fast on country roads. Soon the pale green light was drowned out by the sharp flashing blue lights of the ambulance. _Finally_ , he wasn't sure how long these two had left. "Alright looks like the paramedics are here. I'll be off." England said as he straightened up and dusted off his jacket.

"Huh? Aren't you meant to talk to the police about what happened?" The boy questioned.

“Ah. Well it's best if the police didn't know I was here. They get very angry when I interfere with their work." The blond rubbed the back of his head. "So we keep this between you and me, yes?" The boy nodded, and as Arthur began walking away he shouted a quick 'thank you!' Before he was lost within the dense woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if England is out of character or not, but I believe that England has a soft spot for children that he just can't get rid of. No matter how much he wants it gone.
> 
> And did I reference the Britannia Angel? Yes, yes I did.


	3. Zombie AU II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 28 weeks later, America has been patient for too long.

"Why hello, America. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

America couldn't move, the shock of seeing England like _that_. He'd wanted to help as soon as the virus had spread throughout Britain.

* * *

He and a lot of the other nations helped evacuate England's people out and away from the infected, even through all that America couldn't find England. France was the one who pulled him out of the country, reluctantly telling him that England might not even be _alive_ anymore. The virus had infected and killed thousands of people and the rest of them were carted off to other countries. England might not have enough people to _keep_ him a nation. Either that or he's weak with pain of his people dying, or infected himself.

America's been impatient, he knows, but it's been six months since they had to quarantine Britain and he needs to know if his br- if England is okay. The virus seems to be starting to starve off anyway. So the US sent their army to check the progress and wipe out the few remaining infected stragglers. America's boss told him not to go, let the army to sort Britain out, but America ignored him and boarded the plan anyway. He was sure Canada would keep in touch with him about his country.

They managed to clear London (most of the infected moved to the countryside, probably following survivors), the first few moments in the capital city shocked America to no end. It was just so empty and quiet. He's never seen it like this before, even at night it wasn't like this. This was just scary, worse than horror films.

The whole time the military searched the decaying buildings America held hope in his heart that they were going to find England. To no avail, there was no sign of the blond nation anywhere. America just prayed that what France said was wrong.

* * *

America liked to sit by the Thames during the day, of course he was armed and armoured, Iggy may have called him an idiot but he knew to take precautions in this situation. Up until this point, he didn't know what the virus did to a nation.

That's where America was when someone sat next to him. He was expected one of the soldiers on their break, however, when he turned to look he was shocked to find a mass of dirty, blond hair which was slightly longer than he remembered. His growing happiness was shattered when _he_ turned towards him. There was blood all over him, the thought that made his stomach drop was that it might not be all his (even the thought of some of that blood being England's made America cringe). Especially the parts around his mouth, and those that covered his hands and ruined his sleeves. He was cut and bruised, showing an obvious encounter with the infected. That alone made America scoot back away from the other.

One of his green eyes were horribly bloodshot, the blood twisted and contorted with disease around the white of his eye.

"Oh god, England?!" America exclaimed.

"Shhh! We don't want _your_ military to know I'm here. They have orders to shoot things like me on sight, remember?" England mock frowned at him, but then gave America and bloody grin. "So... how has everything been?" He asked with a gesture of his hand.

"Y-you're infected?" He stuttered.

"Idiot! My whole country is infected!" He growled, green eyes burning with rage into America's ocean blue. England's face collapsed into a small smile as he huffed a laugh, "I may not be as mindless as the rest are, but one little cut from me," he lifted his mucky, red hands, "will, in fact, infect another just as quickly." England grinned slyly. "I had a run into some of my _former_ citizens. Tragic how they've been subjected to this, I honestly thought it'd be you first."

"H-how...? No, this is impossible." America got to his feet, stepping away from this monster, "No! You're not Iggy!" He pulled his gun up and aimed it straight at this... _imposter_. But of course it was England, no one had eyeb- he'd recognise England anywhere...

"Oh-ho, I bet you're enjoying this. Just like your stupid little video games you waste hours on, isn't it?" He stood and lazily spread his arms wide, "Come on, you know you want to. Now's your chance, who knows what I'll do out there... or now." An animalistic smirk grew as he lowered his arms and stalked closer to the younger nation.

America shook his head, moving back every step England took, "I don't want to hurt you Iggy, just... just come back with me. We can h-help you."

England erupted with sinister chuckles, "Help? You're just making it worse! Feeding the virus with more people to infect and kill and _devour_." He licked his lips and the rage took over again. Angrily he stomped closer, America flinched back and raised his gun to hit the approaching blond, hoping knock him out and take him back to base, there had to be cure.

England predicted this and grabbed the arm holding the gun, the steel grip keeping the weapon still, and the other hand went fiercely and viciously to his neck. America recoiled and gasped as the fingers tightened and dug into his skin.

"You're such a disappointment. I should have offed you when I had the chance all those years ago."

"Ig-Iggy." America struggled to breath against the crushing grip, "P-please. Let go..." he held onto England's arm, trying to pull it off of him, but whatever the virus had done to him made it impossible to budge the still as stone limb. He begged that England would let go as he lifted the gun a fraction, however he only tightened his hold. America had no choice, he blanked his mind as he pulled the trigger. He only aimed at England's thigh but he still repeated the mantra of 'it's only another infected' in his head.

At the same time another shot went off, it hit England in the shoulder as he flew backwards from the leg shot.

One of the snipers, America realised. Again, a shot went off. England, expecting this jumped away and the bullet impacted somewhere to the side of them, America felt tears blur his vision as the two shots only managed to anger the island nation more - he didn't show any signs of pain. The only relief he got was England was _thinking_ about his options - America could see it - when orders were shouted in the distance. On the other hand, he was thinking if he had enough time to kill America or not. Apparently not, the thundering stampede of heavy boots in the distance made the decision for England. He smiled as he calmly walked the gross water of his beloved Thames.

"It's been _great_ to see you, but it seems our time together has been cut short. Give everyone my love." He bowed in a polite fashion and stepped off the edge of the river.

America gasped for breath and ran to the edge of the water. It was too... dirty didn't cover it. He didn't know if Iggy had mastered the art of swimming, he didn't know if it mattered anymore, but he was nowhere to be seen. He was sure as hell not risking his own health to find someone who couldn't be saved, didn't want to be saved. America shook his head, thats was a bad thought. Iggy was in there somewhere, and he will find him, make him better again.

He stood slowly, ignoring the horde of soldiers behind him, talking rapidly, asking why he didn't shoot the infected, that they should look for a breach in their defences, if he was alright.

America ignored them and walked back to HQ, what did they know, they were humans. They didn't understand anything.

He _will_ find Iggy. No matter the cost.


End file.
